Mo’ money, mo’ prob­lems

> Singers al­ways have is­sues with their ac­coun­tants mess­ing up their fi­nances and bank ac­counts

The Sun (Malaysia) - - GOOD VIBES -

MY WIFE says I’m lis­ten­ing to too much rap, but I told her: “Imma not, sista, Imma good mista, where my home­boy at?”

Rap ‘mu­sic’ was on my mind when a reader told me about blond Cal­i­for­nian rap­per Kreayshawn who tweeted that tax au­thor­i­ties had emp­tied her bank ac­count but it was all her ac­coun­tant’s fault.

No doubt she’ll soon tell the story in a rap ‘song’: “It ain’t ma fault, I blame da ac­coun­tant, he took ma moola as I said in ma an­nounce­ment.”

And then ac­tress Heather Dubrow told re­porters that her ac­coun­tant en­ticed her to in­vest in a dodgy deal which left her broke. I guess she can reprise her Des­per­ate Housewife role with real feel­ing now.

And then a star from TV’s Jer­sey Shore whose name is The Sit­u­a­tion (pre­sum­ably his close friends call him “The”) also blamed his ac­coun­tant for his fi­nan­cial prob­lems.

What gives? Are all en­ter­tain­ment ac­coun­tants crim­i­nals? So it seemed, un­til your colum­nist did some factcheck­ing. Kreayshawn later re­moved all her ac­cusatory tweets about her mon­ey­man. The small print in the des­per­ate housewife case re­vealed that the ad­vi­sor was not an ac­coun­tant: she just thought he was. And the ad­vi­sor to The Sit­u­a­tion turned out to have “once been” an ac­coun­tant.

Ac­coun­tants are a bit like po­lice of­fi­cers and teach­ers: they get un­fairly blamed for ev­ery­thing.

When folk say ac­coun­tants are bor­ing, I point to Gibby Haynes. He did an ac­count­ing de­gree, was named Ac­count­ing Stu­dent of the Year, and be­came an au­di­tor at Peat Mar­wick. But he was also leader of a suc­cess­ful punk rock band that was so wild, ra­dio sta­tions re­fused to play their songs. They are known as B.H. Surfers (full name un­print­able in a po­lite pub­li­ca­tion like this one). Not sure if he still does ac­count­ing. News­flash: I read that the rap star known as 50 Cent has filed for bank­ruptcy, which means that he tech­ni­cally is not worth 50 cents.

One should never re­joice in some­one’s mis­for­tune, but you have to laugh and dance around the ta­ble a bit, right?

But a ques­tion for any ac­coun­tants read­ing this came from a Twit­ter friend who likes to be known as @ WeirdWorld: “What if dogs are way smarter than we think and they just play dumb so they don’t have to work and pay taxes?”

I told him that that was a ridicu­lous thing to think about dogs. Cats, yes.

Any­way, back to the topic of rap singing. I’m go­ing to start a band called Con­demned Build­ing Don’t En­ter so that af­ter the posters go up ev­ery­where, the whole pop­u­la­tion will be liv­ing in the streets, ready for my open-air con­cert.

I’ll make a quick for­tune, blow it all on he­do­nism and then blame my ac­coun­tant. It’s the done thing, right?

If you don’t get rap, try trans­lat­ing it into Bri­tish English.

Orig­i­nal: “You ain’t clockin’ me, mutha, hit­tin’ on my honies, brotha, Imma take you out, uh­huh, uh-huh.”

Trans­la­tion: “I would rather you didn’t look at me, sir, as I demon­strate af­fec­tion to­wards my fe­male com­pan­ions, my friend, or I may have to bring your life to a pre­ma­ture close, what ho.”

Nury Vit­tachi is an Asia-based fre­quent trav­eller. Send ideas and com­ments to life­style. nury@the­

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